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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28345434">my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mjhealy/pseuds/mjhealy'>mjhealy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, One Shot, Past Child Abuse, its foxxay but like neither of them have acted on their feelings yet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:41:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,311</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28345434</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mjhealy/pseuds/mjhealy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Cordelia’s not really one for long talks about feelings.</p><p>Well, that’s not exactly true. She’s great with those, as long as the feelings in question are someone else’s and not her own.</p><p>(aka Cordelia shares too much in the greenhouse and Misty wishes she could kill Fiona with her bare hands)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Misty Day/Cordelia Foxx | Cordelia Goode</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>87</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cordelia’s not really one for long talks about feelings.</p><p>Well, that’s not exactly true. She’s great with those, as long as the feelings in question are someone else’s and not her own. She’s a solace for so many, for the girls, as much as they like to poke their fun at her. And lately, she’s been one for Misty, who’s slowly testing out the idea of trusting people as much as she trusts swamp animals. Or at least one person. She and Cordelia have taken to late night chats in the greenhouse, under the pretence of tending the plants, though mostly they just sit there. Talking. </p><p>But if ever the conversation strays too far into Cordelia’s life, Misty finds herself rerouted with some other question about her childhood—Cordelia appears endlessly fascinated by stories of her Christian upbringing, her black sheep life in her huge Cajun family. "It was just me and Fiona, growing up, and we didn't really do religion considering she's basically the closest thing we have to a God, so..." It takes Misty a while to realize Cordelia’s an expert at turning a conversation around. She does it so quickly, Misty doesn’t even notice it happening until moments later. Which is probably how she ended up knee deep in the story of the first time she discovered her power, running through the street with her dog Fleetwood (who wasn’t really her dog, just a neighbourhood stray she’d befriended) and a car had come out of nowhere and hit Fleetwood head on. </p><p>“I mean, he was <i>dead</i>, no question, blood poolin’ under him and… it was awful. And the guy in the car came jumpin’ out and kept saying sorry and I just bent over Fleetwood, and I’m crying and kissing one of the parts of his face that wasn’t all bloody and then I start feeling kinda woozy and suddenly… he just gets up, and licks my face, and starts running off again. And he wasn’t healed, ya know, but I could tell it wasn’t hurtin’ him anymore.”</p><p>Cordelia is rapt, eyes piercing Misty's skin in a way that strikes her as odd—it’s a fun story, sure, but not that interesting, certainly, not in comparison to some of the magic the older woman has surely witnessed in her lifetime. Her mother is the supreme, after all. Then again, she's still not really used to being able to make eye contact with Cordelia, with her new mismatched eyes that make Misty just a tad suspicious.</p><p>“First I thought I must be imagining things, or dreamin’, but then I look up at the guy from the car and he’s just staring at me with these big eyes…” Misty chuckles softly. “And he goes, ‘We good?’” </p><p>Cordelia smiles.</p><p>“And he drives off.” Misty fiddles with the fringe on her shawl. “So that’s it. That’s my story. What about you?”</p><p>“What about me?”</p><p>“When did you first know you were a witch?” She realizes as she says it it’s a stupid question. She was probably told what she was from birth.</p><p>“Oh, always.” Cordelia rolls her eyes playfully. “Fiona was big on telling me about my ‘sacred birthright.’ So I always knew. Not that exciting.”</p><p>“Well, when did you come into your power?”</p><p>Cordelia’s hands twitch ever so slightly, hoping Misty didn’t notice. </p><p>“I don’t really remember.” She adds a little laugh for good measure. “I guess I’m not a usual case. So after the dog… Did you test your powers out?”</p><p>“Oh, yeah. Ya never realize how much death you see all around you until it’s…” She stills. “Wait. We were talkin’ about you.”</p><p>Cordelia stands from her spot. “I don’t have much to say.”</p><p>“So your mom told you you were a witch but… when did you first know for yourself?”</p><p>She can sense she’s making Cordelia uncomfortable, she’s not stupid, but something about the way the woman’s eyes are pointed vaguely downwards makes Misty want to press on.</p><p>“I didn’t really exhibit powers as a kid, not even much as an adult. I don’t really have much magic in me. A little, sure. I had the sight when I was blind… But it’s gone now. I just, you know, do spells, potions. Drives my mother insane, but so does everything else, so…” She laughs again. “In a way I’m kind of glad I don’t really have any real powers, I guess. She’s a lot to live up to.”</p><p>“Course.”</p><p>“Having no powers means I don’t even have to bother comparing. It’s nice.” Misty gives her a soft smile. She doesn’t want to push her—she can tell Cordelia isn’t one to confess her deepest darkest secrets to anyone—but she senses a melancholy to the words all the same. “When I was a kid, she used to give me all these challenges to try and get my powers to come out,” Cordelia giggles. “Never went well.” </p><p>“Like what?”</p><p>“She was convinced I’d have telekinesis, because that was her first power and her mother’s and… she always told me she started moving things when she was two.” She pauses, thinking. “Wonder if that's even true.” </p><p>“So she’d…?” Misty is trying not calling attention to the fact that she’s finally gotten Cordelia talking, sharing, but she also desperately doesn’t want it to end, because for some reason she doesn’t understand she wants to know every detail of this woman’s life, every single moment she has ever experienced, every part of her soul.</p><p>“Oh, she’d, you know, put food at dinner across the table and tell me I could only eat it if I could move it to myself, and then she’d sit there staring at me while I stared at the food and I never could get it to move. Then after a few minutes she’d fling the plate into my face without moving a finger. To show me how it's done.”</p><p>Misty is silent, staring, and Cordelia feels heat rise to her cheeks, so she smiles forcefully. </p><p>“It was so silly. I never liked telekinesis anyways. Kind of a dark power if you ask me.”</p><p>“Ya think?” Misty’s eyes are probing. </p><p>Cordelia sighs. “Maybe not. Maybe Fiona just hurled me against a wall with a flick of her wrist one too many times,” she laughs. “Between her and Madison I developed associations.” Her laughter stops when she notices the look in Misty’s eyes, a sadness that makes her flush again.</p><p>“Oh,” is all Misty says.</p><p>“It’s really no big deal, I mean… lots of kids get shit from their parents. I just got it magically.”</p><p>“I don’t think that makes it any better.”</p><p>“Well, you know, if I ever got hurt too badly she’d get all weird and guilty and be really nice for a few hours or something. Once I think she dislocated my shoulder and she healed it so fast I barely even had time to scream.”</p><p>Misty’s eyes are clouded over. </p><p>“That was supposed to be funny,” Cordelia adds.</p><p>“It’s sad.”</p><p>Cordelia is uncomfortable now, and she stands. “We should really go to bed, it’s so late.” </p><p>“Miss Cordelia-“</p><p>“I told you not to call me that.” She doesn’t know why the ‘Miss’ makes her so uncomfortable when it’s coming from Misty. Or maybe she does. She pushes the thought from her mind.</p><p>Misty nods. “When I said you were an awesome leader. I meant it. You’re really… you’re awesome.” Cordelia can tell the younger woman is trying to say something, something important, and she doesn’t know what.</p><p>Cordelia smiles gratefully, and Misty returns the look, but the sadness is not gone from her eyes, and Cordelia looks away. </p><p>“Goodnight, Misty.”</p><p>—</p><p>Cordelia can’t sleep.</p><p>It reminds her of the nights she’d spend after an incident with her mother, nights that still haunt her. The time she’d come home from a day at a friend’s house where she’d dyed her hair brown, and Fiona had been so furious she’d lit the ends of her hair on fire, leaving burns on the back of her neck. She’d laid in bed that night feeling as if she was being chewed alive from the inside. </p><p>It was only a few months before Cordelia was sent off to Miss Robichaux’s, to where she is now, once again lying awake, feeling like her heart is being twisted. </p><p>She’d made Misty upset. She could tell, from the look in her eyes, that she didn’t like hearing Cordelia’s childhood. The stories she’d try to share as if they were normal occurrences, but she’s smart enough to know they’re not, and she shouldn’t have subjected her to hearing them. Misty is all goodness and kindness and pure intentions. She’s magic embodied, and in the best way. Not cruel magic like Fiona, but in the way where it radiates from her skin like sunlight.</p><p>Cordelia doesn’t want to taint that, like she did tonight, not ever. She can’t allow her darkness, the darkness of her family and her sadness to tarnish Misty’s pure good. Not to mention, she’ll simply never be good enough for a witch like Misty. The next Supreme, she’s sure. Cordelia is powerless, she has long accepted. The sight that she briefly had when blinded is gone now. And just as she could never compare to her mother, the current Supreme, she could never exist on the same level as the next one. Misty is all the power of Fiona, but with a soul. That makes her something else entirely.</p><p>Misty is the most incredible woman Cordelia has ever met. </p><p>She tries to sleep, images of Misty dancing through her mind. She finds it’s all she thinks about lately. Misty. She lives for their late nights in the greenhouse. She hopes she hasn’t ruined them tonight.</p><p>And as she lays there, trying hopelessly to erase the image of Misty’s blue eyes coloured with sorrow, she hears something. Except she doesn’t, really, because in some strange way knows she can’t actually hear it, out loud, but she is aware of the sound of crying as if it’s coming from her own head and she knows it’s Misty, she knows Misty is crying. Without thinking, she gets up, throws a robe over her pyjamas, ties the belt around her waist and steps softly towards Misty’s room.</p><p>Even pressed against the door she can’t hear her crying, not with her ears, but she can hear it in her mind as clear as day. Sure enough, when she knocks quietly against the door and calls out “Misty?” the voice that responds is tearful.</p><p>“Um… who is it?”</p><p>Cordelia rolls her eyes. “Misty, it’s me. Can I come in?”</p><p>There’s a moment of silence. “Okay.”</p><p>Cordelia opens the door. “Sweetie, what’s the matter?”</p><p>She sees Misty’s face scrunch up in fresh tears, trying hopelessly to brush them away. “Oh, gosh, it’s nothin’. Really.”</p><p>“It’s obviously not nothing.” Cordelia pads over to the bed, her bare feet cold against the floor. “I upset you earlier. I’m sorry.”</p><p>Misty makes a little choking sound. “It’s not you. You didn’t do anything wrong.” </p><p>“I shouldn’t have told you those-“</p><p>“I fucking hate her.”</p><p>Cordelia has never heard the witch swear in her life.</p><p>“My mother? Get in line,” she laughs.</p><p>Misty doesn’t lighten. “When I think of her doin’ that to you… It makes me so fucking mad, I…” She doesn’t finish the thought.</p><p>Cordelia isn’t quite sure what to say. She’s so good at comforting people, but not like this, not when it’s about her. “I didn’t know you could get mad.”</p><p>Now, Misty laughs, though her jaw is still tense. There's a fire in her eyes that has never been there before. “Oh, I can. Believe me.” </p><p>“I see that.”</p><p>The tears are still streaming down the younger woman’s face. Cordelia brushes them with her thumbs.</p><p>“I’m sorry for telling you about that,” she says softly.</p><p>“Stop sayin’ you’re sorry.” Misty’s hands tighten. “I’m glad you told me.”</p><p>“But now you’re all…”</p><p>“I hate that that happened to you, because you don’t deserve it, none of it. And anyone who would hurt you… I fucking hate Fiona. And I’m still not sure I wanna be the Supreme, but it would feel real nice to take that woman’s power and watch her shrivel up and…” Cordelia is staring at her, and Misty catches herself. “I’m sorry. I know she’s your mother and all.”</p><p>“Misty, we literally tried to kill her last week. I’m not all that sensitive.” She hates the words as soon as they've come out of her mouth. </p><p>“Oh. Right.” </p><p>Cordelia is still at a loss for what to say, so instead she places a hand on Misty’s knee. “Thank you.”</p><p>“For what?”</p><p>“For being so upset for me. I don’t know. For caring.”</p><p>Misty’s eyes are doing that sad thing again, and suddenly, without warning, Cordelia finds herself wrapped in a tight hug. She’s stiff for a moment. She’s used to giving hugs, not receiving them. But then she finds herself softening into the woman’s warmth, her earthy smell, burying her face in her thick blonde hair.</p><p>There’s a strange nervous excitement in Cordelia’s stomach. She wonders if Misty feels it too.</p><p>“You do have power,” she hears, whispered next to her ear. Cordelia pulls out of the hug.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I don’t know what but… I think you have more magic than you think. I feel it when I touch you, like electricity, or something. You’re powerful.”</p><p>“That’s… nice of you to say.”</p><p>“No, listen, I mean it. You have more magic in you than Fiona has in her big toe. ‘Cause power isn’t that powerful if you don’t have a soul to use it with. You have power and you have one of the most beautiful souls I’ve ever seen. And I know a lot about souls.”</p><p>Cordelia is speechless.</p><p>“I hope you realize it soon.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>pls leave me a comment and/or come talk to me on twitter @disastertaurus!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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